


my dark star

by WhyDontWeBegin



Series: Born of Light, Bathed in Shadow [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Bisexuality, Confident Bisexual X'rhun Tia, Emlyn Is Big Dumb, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, How Do I Tag, Idiots in Love, Multiple Personalities, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Red Mage Questline (Final Fantasy XIV), Slow Burn, Viera Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), its a thing okay, no beta we just die, starts late ARR, will continue into HW
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:08:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyDontWeBegin/pseuds/WhyDontWeBegin
Summary: Emlyn Miret-njer, Warrior of Light. Not the title she would've chosen by any means.Perhaps picking up the art of red magic wasn't her best idea.
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Scions of the Seventh Dawn & Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), X'rhun Tia/Original Character(s), X'rhun Tia/Warrior of Light
Series: Born of Light, Bathed in Shadow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576069
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	1. The Man in Red

**Author's Note:**

> its here! the beginning! the start of the story! the agonizing "JUST CONFESS" part!
> 
> uhhhh title is from Dark On Me by STARSET, this time. weird I know
> 
> and yes I'm pulling a lot of dialogue straight from the quests don't @ me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alt title: dumber meets dumb

Emlyn’s heart pounded in her chest, fit to burst but feeling nothing at all, blood rushing in her ears. It was always this. Every time, without fail.

The day her life ended.

_“No! Stop!”_

The screams never really left. It never really ended. The faces she couldn’t forget, the mistakes she couldn’t escape, the lives she couldn’t save, the people she failed, every life she had _taken_. Emlyn knew full well her sins. She knew her crimes. They weighed heavy on her soul.

_“Please, you can’t do this!”_

Emlyn walked through the burning village, refusing to acknowledge the people she saw being killed. Refusing to acknowledge the dead and the damned. (Ignore it, ignore it, don’t let it affect you. Don’t let it hurt you.

Don’t let _her_ hurt you.)

_“Help us!”_

Massacre. Emlyn felt bile burning at the back of her throat as she watched _herself_ kill them. One after the other.

_“And you? What have you done save for cause us grief?! You are a shame to your family, to your people!”_

No survivors. No one to walk away, no one to pray for those killed.

_“She’s mad. She’s completely mad! After what she has done, would any of us suffer her to live?!”_

An execution that did not go through. Chains, shackles, not nearly as heavy as those binding her heart.

_“This is the one? Certainly doesn’t look that dangerous.”_

_“You didn’t see the bodies.”_

(Don’t let her in. Don’t let her _win_.)

Emlyn woke in a cold sweat, heart pounding loud enough she could hear it. She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes, still seeing the flames, the dead. She could still smell iron and smoke. _Push it away. Push it away._

She sat up, eyes still closed, controlling her breathing. In, hold, out, hold, repeat. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five. Emlyn pulled off her sweat-soaked shirt and tossed it across the room, letting the cold air against her skin ground her. It was still dark. She didn’t know what time it was, but it didn’t matter.

Once she was awake, she was awake. That was that.

She got up, stretched. Kept her eyes closed, kept her breaths measured. Control.

Emlyn opened her eyes, glanced around the inn room. She needed to get out of Gridania- take her meager belongings and go. Clear her head. Thanalan would do nicely—a dry, barren desert was a far cry from the life she left behind that the Black Shroud reminded her of.

—

It was midday when Emlyn spotted a frantic, distressed little Hyurian girl while wandering the Sapphire Avenue Exchange. Had anyone asked, she would’ve simply said she was curious- though in truth, what drove her approach was concern. The girl spotted her while she was still several yalms away, running up with pleading, desperate eyes that made Emlyn’s stomach twist with familiar emotion.

She pushed it down.

“Oh, oh, are you an adventurer?! Please, you have to rescue my sister! Some horrible people tried to kidnap us just outside the city gates! I managed to break free when a traveler stopped to help, but my sister never caught up to me,” she said in a rush. Emlyn gave a disinterested hum before closing her eyes.

“I’ll handle it. Stay here.”

Emlyn left before she could get another word in, through the gate and into the desert. She could see the girl already, and it wasn’t too long before she could make out the man in red in front of her. He stood out a bit in the desert, wearing that outfit.

The girl—the sister—heard her approach, reacting without thinking. “Don’t touch m—oh, you’re not one of them!”

“Of course not, I doubt your sister would send a kidnapper to help you,” Emlyn deadpanned. Her gaze turned to the man in red, watching him dispatch the culprits with a practiced ease. She recognized the way he carried himself—confident, calm, perhaps a tad prideful—but not more than was justified. “Not that you needed the help, really, considering.”

He turned, and immediately raised a brow. She was wearing an _awful_ lot of black for someone running around the desert. A quick once-over granted him several details: she was a traveler, and a fighter—likely an adventurer. Fought with her fists, based on her gloves and equipment—light and flexible, suited for a Monk. Most certainly _not_ from around here, being a Viera and with the tattoo on her face. She was calm, he recognized a confidence similar to his own, but something about her seemed guarded and uneasy. He wasn’t sure if that was about himself, the situation, or something else entirely.

X’rhun decided that was something to ponder later. “… And who might you be?”

“Depends. Who’s asking?”

His tail curled behind him, lips pulling into a small smirk. “My name is X’rhun Tia. Came to lend your aid, did you? My apologies. Had I but known, I would have spared you a villain or two. After all, you seem to share my distaste for those who would prey upon defenseless children. Aye! Birds of a feather are we!”

The playful lilt to his tone had Emlyn’s lips curling into a smirk of her own. “Emlyn Miret-njer. It was actually something of a treat to see someone else handle themself so well, but I can’t correct you on distaste. ‘Birds of a feather’ might be a stretch, though, _X’rhun_.”

The way she said his name made his ears twitch inside his hat, a shiver running down his spine. He raised a brow. Her tone in and of itself was reminiscent of promises. Promises and _trouble—_ aye, he was positive this woman and trouble went hand in hand, be it following in her wake or otherwise. Now that he thought on it, her name rang familiar to him—though he couldn’t place it, and pushed the notion aside.

“Excuse me, I…” Both X’rhun and Emlyn turned to the young girl, who bowed to the Miqo’te. “I just wanted to thank you for saving me!”

  
“My pleasure, child. You are unharmed, yes?” She nodded in response to X’rhun’s words and he smiled. “Good. Let us escort this brave lass to her sister, then. Lead the way!”

Emlyn snorted, shrugging and shaking her head, before leading them silently back to Ul’dah. All the while she pondered- something about the way X’rhun fought was familiar, and she knew she’d seen it before. But _where_? When? She turned her head a fraction, analyzing the man to her left. Red hat, red coat, red pants. Damnit, the color played into it, but what-

( _Red magic._ )

Ah. That was it, then- he must be a Red Mage. Emlyn hadn’t heard anything about them since she left Gyr Abania prior to Garlemald’s occupation- she hadn’t been a fan of Theodric’s tyranny, but it wasn’t her fight.

( _You say that, but the fight we’re involved in now isn’t ours either. Not our cause, not our purpose. How long do you intend to lie to yourself?_ )

Blue met yellow and X’rhun raised a brow with an inquisitive hum. Emlyn merely turned her gaze to the path ahead as they passed through the gate. The moment the distraught girl saw them, she lit up, beelining for her sister and wrapping her in a hug. Emlyn squashed the pang of jealousy that ran through her at the sight.

“You found her, adventurer! Thank you!”

“We are very grateful for your kindness,” and the seemingly elder sister gave Emlyn a bow this time. She shook her head.

“No need to thank me,” she replied, and X’rhun’s brow furrowed as he looked her over again. He’d been right the first time—she was confident and calm, but there was a tension to how she held herself. It was like she wasn’t settled into her own skin, guarded and careful, choosing every action with care. Controlling her emotions, even. There was a deep-seated unease he doubted many had noticed, well-hidden as it was.

“You needn’t worry about them anymore, sister—the man in red defeated them all! You saw how he fought, with spells and steel? He’s one of those heroes Papa told us about: a Crimson Duelist! …Aren’t you?”

X’rhun blinked and looked back at the sisters, belatedly realizing he’d missed part of the conversation. “Ah. Hah, I did not expect to hear that name this far south into Eorzea,” he confessed with a smile.

“Then you _are_ a Crimson Duelist! I knew it!”

“If your papa is telling his daughters tales of red mages, then he must be from Ala Mhigo, yes?” X’rhun inquired. He could feel Emlyn’s gaze on him again, but this time, he didn’t look back at her. Another nod. “Well that would explain his choice of bedtime stories. Now, shall we see you lasses home?”

“We’ll be alright from here! Thank you again!”

The girls waved as they ran off down the road, and X’rhun waved back. Emlyn merely gave a nod of acknowledgement. She seemed to be a reserved sort, and that assessment was proving true as well.

“And away they skip, safe and happy. Now... Emlyn, was it not? I believe we’ve earned ourselves a celebratory drink!”

“Cheers to that,” she snorted, and X’rhun tilted his head with a smile.

“Well, my friend, meet me at the Coffer and Coffin. I find the ale there quite agreeable,” he hummed, tail swaying behind him. The ghost of a smile played at Emlyn’s lips as she nodded, and he left with a wave.

As she watched him walk away, she hummed in thought. “Curiouser and curiouser... could swear I’ve seen him before.”

—

Emlyn did not want to be in Mor Dhona. Quite the contrary—she’d much rather be at the Coffer & Coffin with X’rhun. Not only was he pleasant on the eyes, but the man was nice to be around. Pleasant company and drink sounded far more appealing than breaking into an imperial castrum, much as it needed to be done.

( _You could always just leave. Turn away and let them handle things on their own. Not like this is your problem._

But it is, being a fugitive of the Empire.

_So just run. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Run and hide like a coward, letting others suffer for your misdeeds._

Shut up.)

Gods, Emlyn would absolutely prefer X’rhun’s company and a nice tankard of ale. Walking through a castrum, even in disguise, was going to leave her nerves shot all to hell. Not to mention _her_ , with spiteful words for Emlyn alone to hear. Things she refused to listen to. (If Emlyn gave in… well. It wouldn’t happen. Not again.)

“Emlyn?”

“I’ve been waiting all day for this,” she snorted, cracking her knuckles. “It’s time to smack some Imperials around.”

—

“Ah, Emlyn, you came!” X’rhun greeted with a wide smile. Emlyn returned it with a weak one of her own, and he could see the exhaustion in her face. The turmoil. He resolved to distract her, should she not wish to speak of it. “As it so happens, the mother of those girls tracked me down and insisted I accept a reward. Once I mentioned you might be stopping by, she left a token of gratitude for you as well.”

“Did she? Didn’t tell her I wasn’t much for rewards, did you?”

X’rhun fought back a frown at the way she spoke, her tone almost _defeated_. A far cry from the confident woman he’d met two suns ago. “Oh come now, she would’ve insisted regardless. It seems we’ve assisted an affluent merchant family—a revelation which might explain the attempted kidnapping. Hefty ransom, and all that.”

Abruptly, at his words, she seemed to go from drifting to attentive, leaning back against the counter and turning her gaze upon the Miqo’te. That was something of a relief. “Go on.”

“I’m told the girls were assigned a capable bodyguard, so we can drink in peace knowing they are well protected!” X’rhun paused, looking her over—he’d already opted not to mention Alisaie, considering the state Emlyn appeared to be in right now. However…

“Emlyn,” he began, and she quirked a brow. “Did you know I was a red mage before those girls mentioned it?”

“… Took me a bit to figure it out. I knew I’d seen it before,” she confessed, turning and taking a long drink from her tankard while X’rhun mulled over her words. She’d seen it before- which meant she had to have been in Gyr Abania before…

“… Forgive me for asking, my friend, but how?”

She glanced over, set her tankard down, and gave him a wry smile. “I was in Gyr Abania for a few years during the Mad King’s reign. Kept a bit of a low profile at the time, though. Older than I look.”

“… Have you any interest in the art?” X’rhun asked. Her expression quickly morphed to surprise as he continued. “I suspect you would make an exceptional red mage!”

Emlyn looked back at her drink, and X’rhun watched her conflicted expression before she looked back at him. “… You can’t be serious.”

“I am deadly serious. A woman who would rush to the aid of a stranger’s child without fear or hesitation is a woman I would trust with the power of red magic. But even beyond that… I sense in you a kindred spirit,” he said with a smile, a confidence in his tone that Emlyn found hard to deny. “Be warned, though, my teaching style is a practical one—though you seem the type to favor it.”

“… You’re not wrong,” she hummed, looking him over again before closing her eyes, sighing, and reopening them. “… No harm in trying, I suppose.”

A wide grin spread across X’rhun’s face. “Excellent! You will not regret this decision, my friend! For a moment there, I thought you meant to refuse me!”

Emlyn shrugged. “Almost did. But then again, your company is a welcome respite from that which I usually keep. Be a shame to leave it at this.”

X’rhun raised a brow with a curious smile, but neither of them said aught else on the subject, instead talking about nothing at all yet everything at once for the rest of the night.


	2. The Woman in Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps Emlyn required more help than X'rhun had initially thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS TOOK FOREVER AND A HALF WOW  
> im sorry im terrible, they aren't even flirting yet, we'll get to it!! and yes, I did end the chapter where I wanted to, make no mistake. If it feels a little awkward, it's because I started with it months ago and never finished aha

“You have _never_ held a rapier, have you? What of the soul crystal?”

X’rhun sounded as amused as he looked. They were near Black Brush Station, the air still chilly and the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon. Emlyn turned to him with a dead look. “Taught me the magic well enough, and I have an impression of how to use the blade. Just humor me.”

X’rhun shook his head, smiling. “Very well, my friend.” His tail swayed lazily behind him as he moved closer. “Considering your form,” he began, nudging her foot with one of his own into place, “I suppose we ought to start with simple fencing.”

Emlyn snorted as he lifted her arm, frowning and correcting her grip. She could feel the warmth of his hands even through his gloves, absently watching his expression. Observing the line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the intense concentration in his eyes. How old was he? Late thirties? Early to mid forties? Younger than Emlyn, anyhow, but most people she surrounded herself with were these days. It _really_ didn’t make him any less attractive, though.

“Pay attention, if you would,” X’rhun hummed, taking several steps back. Emlyn raised a brow, absentmindedly changing her grip on her rapier and lightly stabbing it into the ground, earning a slightly exasperated look. That looked good on him, too.

“Well?”

X’rhun drew his rapier and settled into stance, eyes closed, before looking at her. “Try to copy this, please.”

He realized quite quickly that he was in for a long day.

—

Emlyn was on her back foot in this match, _again_ , when her linkpearl chimed in her ear. She frowned, narrowly slipping away from X’rhun’s blade and tossing her own to her offhand as she answered.

_“Emlyn? Are you there?”_

“Is it an emergency? Otherwise, I’d like to be left to my own devices. I don’t fancy the discussions of scholars, moral debates, and so on and so forth. You know my stance on this, Alphinaud,” she replied, voice cold and tone sharp. X’rhun settled back, tail curling and brow furrowing. The look on her face was similar to yesterday, when she’d come into the Coffer & Coffin tired and burdened, looking like she bore the weight of the world on her shoulders. (He supposed she did, in a way, with the rumors he’d been hearing of the upcoming Operation Archon.)

_“We need you for-“_

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she snapped, irritation welling. Twisted satisfaction prodded at her mind at the sputtering noise from the other end of the line and she pushed it away, pushed _her_ away. “I already told you. I’m going in there, destroying that weapon, and getting Thancred back alive. I _also_ distinctly recall instructing you to _leave me the fuck alone_ until you had something worth my time.”

X’rhun frowned. He had very little idea what some of that meant, but it gave him some impression of what was bothering her, at least—though it only gave him more questions, in the end. He watched her jaw tighten before her expression went from an attempt at neutral to a near-snarl. His tail swayed idly as she hung up. “Is something the matter?”

“I’m beginning to think I’ve been too nice,” she hissed. “People are starting to take me for granted. Wonder what they’d do if I just vanished? I could do it just to find out, really, and they wouldn’t be able to stop me—“

“Emlyn,” X’rhun said, cutting her off as he approached, reaching up and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Calm down.”

“… Sorry,” she mumbled, looking off to the side with an unreadable expression. For a split second, he almost saw something in her eyes that looked like guilt or regret. Truly, he didn’t understand this woman. She didn’t seem the heroic type, bitter and jaded and tired as she was, constantly on guard like she was on the run. Never at ease for a reason he couldn’t decipher. She didn’t talk about herself, he’d noticed, having carefully deflected any attempt he’d made to learn about her.

That, in and of itself, told him quite a lot. She was hiding something for a reason he couldn’t name, though he wouldn’t be surprised if it was some mix between old, lingering pain and fear. Emlyn was a lone wolf, unaccustomed to working with others yet able to adapt to it seemingly rather seamlessly. She didn’t really _need_ anyone, which made him wonder _why_ she was here.

X’rhun could not say he saw Emlyn Miret-njer as the type to play nice, be respectful, or align herself with any group. And he _especially_ did not see her as the type to let herself get attached to _anyone_.

“You’ve naught to apologize for, my friend. Would you like to continue?”

Emlyn looked at the rapier she held and then back at X’rhun before giving a quiet hum of confirmation. He didn’t press, merely took a step back and waited for her to make the first move.

—

“... That is not what I gave you.”

“Glamour,” Emlyn said dismissively. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not really the type for frilly stuff.”

“I find myself largely surprised it’s not all black,” he admitted. She only shrugged.

“Decided to play into the name, I guess.”

X’rhun heaved a sigh. The closer Operation Archon grew, the more bitter and paranoid Emlyn seemed to become. The more distant and distracted. She’d left for barely a sun before returning, and even after nearly a week of teaching her bladework, he found himself no closer to figuring out the puzzle that was Emlyn Miret-njer.

At the very least he wasn’t alone in that. Emlyn couldn’t figure _him_ out, either. The warmth he showed her, the _genuine_ joy in his eyes when she asked a question. Hell, she couldn’t even puzzle out why he’d offered to teach her in the first place. (She felt much the same in regards to her other teacher. She didn’t understand why _anyone_ would genuinely want _her_ company.) X’rhun’s voice abruptly pulled her from her thoughts. “Emlyn. Let’s spar.”  
  
“What?”

A smile played at X’rhun’s lips. He’d expected as much. “You are accustomed to the ways of the monk, yes? Spar with me. Your fists against my blade,” he challenged. It was clear enough that she found an outlet for her frustrations through combat, and he had reason to believe that anything he tried to teach her today wouldn’t stick. She sighed.

“Fine,” Emlyn said. There was a half-growl to it, like she wanted to refuse but couldn’t bring herself to. “Just let me change.”  
  
X’rhun waited patiently for her return, a tad surprised to find her in only a black tank top and equally black shorts. Bandages were wrapped carefully around her knuckles as what was likely a preemptive measure, but her feet were bare. This was, perhaps, the best look he’d gotten at her form since they’d met. To say that Emlyn was attractive was, perhaps, and understatement. His eyes went to the tattoo crawling up much of her right arm for a moment before he met her gaze.

Now she seemed a different woman. There was a hard look in her eyes as she took a deep breath and took her stance—one X’rhun did not recognize, different as it was from those he was familiar with. He could see what he’d heard in the stories of the Warrior of Light, in this moment. Cold. Distant. Unwavering in conviction. (Some part of him wondered if she was as unwavering as she seemed, but he ignored it.)

X’rhun shed his hat, gloves, and coat, leaving them on a nearby rock before taking his rapier in hand and settling into his own stance. This time, he was not sure who the match would belong to.

Emlyn’s first blow he took head-on, the force leaving him as breathless as her grace.

**Author's Note:**

> big thanks to the [book club](https://discord.gg/c8Yee9S) for supporting me and putting up with my general nonsense, some great content and even greater people


End file.
